


Not a Peep of Trouble

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 11:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18520939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: For Lindafishes8, who wanted an Illya-centric story involving purple Peeps.





	Not a Peep of Trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lindafishes8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindafishes8/gifts).



It all started so innocently. A small Easter basket appeared on their desks.  Inside was a collection of various treats, including jelly beans, foil-wrapped eggs and yellow, pink, and purple blobs. 

Or at least that’s what they looked like to Illya. He lifted one and eyed it suspiciously. “What is this?”

It was a fair question.   “It, partner mine, is a Peep.”

“A Peep?”

“Yup!” Napoleon bit his in half and showed him the white innards.

Cautiously, Illya tried one of his own. “They are very sweet.”

“All sugar.”

The phone rang, Napoleon looked at his watch and grabbed a clipboard. “Tell them I am on my way.”

“Kuryakin.”

“Illya, is Napoleon coming?”

“Yes. He should arrive in a few minutes, providing there are no distractions along the way.”

He cradled the phone and took another bite. Frowning, he picked up his basket and headed for Research.

Napoleon dragged himself to his desk and frowned. His basket had been liberated of all of his marshmallow confections.  It wasn’t that he minded.  As Illya said, they were very sweet.  The phone rang and he absentmindedly answered it.

“Solo.”

“Napoleon, did you know that Peeps are produced by a Russian immigrant? His name is Sam Born. He started making Peeps in 1953.”

“Illya, did you know that all my Peeps are missing?”

“How was your meeting?”

Napoleon smiled at the change in topic. “Long and boring, but in the end, they saw it our way.  Where are you?”

“Research. Your Peeps were a victim of war.  I will buy you some more.”

“No problem. They aren’t my favorite.  I’m going to head home.  I will see you tomorrow.”  Illya’s response was mumbled and Napoleon grinned again. 

He looked forward to giving Illya a bad time about the Peeps, but when he arrived, he was surprised to see Illya’s desk empty.

Frowning, he dropped his briefcase on his desk and grabbed the phone. “Reception, has Agent Kuryakin checked in yet?”

There was a brief delay, then “Sir, he never left.”

“Where is he?”

“Medical.”

 

Illya managed to lift his head from the pillow.  It felt like he was being turned inside out.  The motion was just enough to send him reaching for a basin.

A moment later, there was a helping hand on his back and a soft voice encouraging him.

He flopped back and squinted up at his partner.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Napoleon kept his voice purposefully low.

“Better. I do wish my head would stop pounding, though.”

“You got yourself a serious migraine, my friend.”

“A migraine? I’ve never had one of those in my life.”

“I’ve only had a couple and they are miserable. What caused it?”

“Too much sugar, apparently, isn’t a good thing”

“The Peeps?”

“Don’t mention that word.”

“Well, into each life, some Peeps must fall. And it could be worse.”

“How?”

“Imagine if it had been something available year round, like say, Lime Jell-O.”

Illya began to retch again.

“Was it something I said?”


End file.
